


Hey Jealous Lover Ch.2 of 16

by kinfic2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Jealous Brian, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:24:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinfic2/pseuds/kinfic2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What a tangled web we weave!<br/>Takes place after Ep.208 and before Ep.217</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Jealous Lover Ch.2 of 16

Justin’s POV:  
  
       I could feel something between Adam and me, that indescribable but noticeable something when your stomach quivers, your pulse races and your skin boils. It wasn’t strong. The quiver was more like a flutter, the race more like a jog, and the boil more like a simmer. But it started me thinking. I’ve only had those feelings for one other person. Knowing I could have them about someone else, even on a much smaller scale, scared the shit out of me.  
  
       Testing the water, I made an offhand suggestion that we work together on one of our many art projects. I didn't expect anything to come of it. When he approached me in the hall and asked if he could come over today, I barely heard my answer over the hammering in my chest.  
  
       Brian would still be at the office. He wants to make partner, which translates into long hours and not arriving home—I mean, _to the loft_ —until very late, sometimes after I’ve fallen asleep waiting for him. Between school, homework, and shifts at the diner, I get really tired and it’s hard to stay awake.  
  
       Besides, it wouldn’t matter if he _were_ here. He’s made our situation crystal clear, going out of his way to demonstrate our “non-arrangement” with a variety of supporting players. It hurts when he does that. So there’s no reason to expect anything else, although I wish I could.  
  
       I try not to stare at Adam but the nipples poking through his t-shirt and the slim waist curving into his hips are too tempting a sight. I can only imagine how— No, I did not just think that!  
  
       We’re lying on the floor, surrounded by a mess of papers, textbooks and charcoal. Great minds must think alike because we start to inch closer until our bodies touch. He’s so fucking pale. He looks like he'd disintegrate if I blew him _._ Okay, forget that thought!  
  
     “What?” He looks confused, but I see laughter in his eyes.  
  
       Shit! I'm not good at this! What the hell did Brian ever see in me? I feel the heat in my face and know I’m turning an embarrassed crimson. “Uh, nothing!”  
  
     “You’ve been staring at me for at least a minute. What’s up?”  
  
What’s up? If he only knew! Why the fuck isn’t Brian home yet?  
  
       As usual, my mouth and brain weren't on the same page, a fact that never ceases to amuse my whatever-he-is and never stops him from teasing me about it. “You’re beautiful!” Christ! Mortified, I curse my stupid comment and pray he doesn't laugh, at least until after he leaves. After a few seconds, his hand is on my chin. The chill of his confidence gives me goosebumps.  
  
     “Hey, it’s okay. That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s said to me.” His voice slides across my skin like velvet and chocolate, satin and vanilla.  
  
      Did I mention he has a great smile? His mouth is perfectly proportioned. It’s smooth and warm and _—Oh God, it’s on mine!_ And holy shit— _Brian’s home!_  
  
       I pull away like a bat out of hell when the loft door groans open, the metal clanging an alert to a possible tricky situation. And a potentially risky one. What the fuck is he doing home so early and why the fuck didn’t he show up earlier?  
  
_“I see the tip of the iceberg and I worry about you. Red Alert. Red Alert.”_ _©Peart,Lee,Lifeson_  
  
      My internal warning system activated, my heart pounds in an erratic rhythm of misplaced beats. I feel Adam watching me. I don’t think I care. It’s a struggle to stay calm. As if on cue, the words tumble out. “Hey, you’re home! I wasn’t expecting you til later.”  
  
    At first, I see surprise. But he smoothly hides it with one of his trademark expressions, _“_ don’t let them see you sweat.” Now there’s only the barely concealed irritation I’m accustomed to seeing. But damn, I swear something's different in his eyes this time, something I can’t figure out.  
  
       A line from a Mary Howitt poem pops in my head. “Come into my web, said the cunning spider to the fly.”

 

continued here: <http://archiveofourown.org/works/1212250>

 

 


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